


Fever Dreaming

by sabby1



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: Banter, Blow Jobs, Coming In Pants, Dirty Talk, Flirting, Fluff and Smut, Innuendo, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Post-Canon, bartending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:35:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22441180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabby1/pseuds/sabby1
Summary: Maia accidentally injures herself just before she's supposed to man the bar at Taki's Diner. Simon offers to help. He's no good at bartending. Jace shows up. He's insanely good at bartending. Things happen.OR The one where Simon jumping in to help out Maia results in Jace and Simon having sex in the boathouse.
Relationships: Simon Lewis/Jace Wayland
Comments: 19
Kudos: 307
Collections: Very Best Jimon





	Fever Dreaming

**Author's Note:**

> I blame [The Hunter's Moon discord server](https://discord.gg/RhZPtsd) and especially the lovely and talented [Krit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krit/pseuds/Krit) who oh so casually threw out gifs of Dominic Sherwood playing the bartender in a music video and _smoldering_ like it's going out of style.
> 
> ###### 

The crash of breaking glass and the simultaneous slosh of water are accompanied by the kind of profanity that would make a sailor’s grandmother blush.

Simon’s out of the booth and on the other side of the bar quicker than the second-hand on the clock behind the counter can tick over.

“Shit, are you okay?”

Maia’s still cursing up a storm, wrapping her hand in one of the black towels she keeps behind the counter.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she growls with more than a hint of wolf in her tone. “Glass slipped. I guess we’re serving werewolf sashimi tonight.” 

Simon makes a face. “Let’s not. Taki’s been open for less than a week, you really don’t need the Health Department down here already.” He gently places his hand under her towel-wrapped wrist. The scent of her blood is already biting his nose. “Let me see?”

Maia makes another wolfish snarling noise, but she lets him unwrap the towel and take a look at the damage.

“Yeah,” he says, wrapping it back up. It’s a struggle to keep his fangs sheathed, but Simon’s been learning to control his vampire urges for over a year now; he manages. “Even with wolfy-healing, I think you wanna take this one to urgent care.”

“Great,” Maia drawls, “and who’s going to man the bar while I’m sitting there waiting to see if my healing kicks in before they get around to stitching me up?”

Simon scowls. “It’s not that bad if you go to the one on Court.”

“I still don’t have anyone to man the bar!” Maia snaps at him, almost literally.

“I can cover until you get back.”

Maia’s pretty brown eyes bug out as she stares at Simon for a solid three seconds. Then she bursts into hysterical laughter.

Simon would be really mad if he didn’t like her so much.

“I can!” he says insistently. “I’m not some great undiscovered talent, but I can serve beer and put together a rum and coke. Nobody’s going to order anything fancy at a diner!”

Maia makes a few more grumbling and snarling noises, but she eventually relents.

Less than half an hour into his very first shift as a bartender, Simon is seriously reconsidering his self-assessment of his abilities.

He’s had more than one person yell at him for giving “too much head” (and it had taken him way too long to realize they were talking about the crown of foam on their beer). He’s messed up several orders of mixed drinks because he couldn’t tell apart the house vodka from the house gin. He’s out of his depth and in over his head.

“You’re kidding, right?”

The sarcastic drawl makes a shiver of something roll down Simon’s spine and raises every single hackle from his tailbone to the nape of his neck.

He doesn’t want to look up, but he will have to eventually, so he sighs and gets it over with.

Jace Herondale is walking up to the bar with his usual big-dick swagger and fuck-me grin. He’s dressed completely in black, also per usual. His leather jacket and ragged jeans are stained with god-knows-what from his latest hunt.

Simon’s grin is facetious at best, spastic at worst. His nerves are fried, he can hear a grumpy customer start to complain behind his left shoulder, and the words just bubble out.

“Look what the cat threw up! If it isn’t my least-favorite Shadowhunter.”

Okay, that last part isn’t true, but right now Jace is the very last member of the Lightwood-bunch he wants to see. Alec’s quietly-judging stares, he could handle. Izzy would totally jump in to help him. Jace… is Jace. He’ll thoroughly enjoy watching the spectacle of Simon’s torment, offering snarky comments the whole time. 

He's surprised when Jace’s smile freezes like someone blasted his face with cold air. For an instant, his blond brows furrow over his nose. Then he pushes a few loose strands of golden hair back from his face and puts on an even cockier smile.

Simon’s mouth moves on its own again. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that. Just… I can’t. Not this. Not you. Not right now. I promised Maia, and I’m failing hard, and she’s already going to kill me when she gets back.” 

Whatever Jace was going to say stops with his mouth open and his brows raised in surprise.

That expression shouldn’t be as hot as it is.

Jace’s eyes narrow as he looks around the place. “Where is Maia?”

“She’s— “

“Who do I have to punch to get a decent drink around here?” The grumpy customer has finally lost his volume control.

Simon closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and exhales it again, reminding himself that decking customers is not allowed.

“At urgent care,” he pointedly finishes his sentence, keeping his eyes on Jace’s pretty mismatched ones, “because she cut herself on a broken glass.”

Jace makes a noise in his throat that’s somewhere between a hum and a growl. Then he takes off his leather jacket and walks around the counter like he does that every day and it’s his rightful place to be.

Simon stares, pole-axed, while Jace stuffs his jacket into an empty corner by the cloth napkins, shoves his hair out of his face and walks right up to the grumpy customer with the kind of grin-and-flex that has sent some lower demons voluntarily crawling back to Edom.

“You can try me, but I wouldn’t advise it,” he drawls. “What can I get you?”

“Moscow mule,” the customer grunts.

“Sure thing.” Jace is still grinning. “Well or brand?”

“Well’s fine.”

Jace smirks and gives the guy one of those looks Simon has seen him give to mediocre fighters in training. Then he turns around and grabs the house vodka and a couple of limes from the fruit basket like he’s been bartending for years.

Another customer orders a beer, and before Simon knows what’s happening, he’s tending the bar next to Jace. He’s also trying very hard not to act like a horny fanboy while he watches Jace do all sorts of fancy juggling with the silver cocktail shaker and various spout-tipped liquor bottles. 

Jace’s black T-shirt is tighter than it needs to be, and his biceps flex probably twice as much as his actions require, and he hasn’t quit _smoldering_ since he started putting together that first Moscow Mule.

It’s just not fair.

Simon can barely keep up with serving tap lager and bottled micro-brews.

“Still too much head, boy!” Another angry customer shouts across the bar.

Simon jolts and ducks his head in embarrassment, but before he can apologize, Jace’s voice cuts clear across the din.

“This is a family establishment, sir. Mind your language!”

The crowd at the bar breaks out into raucous laughter. It’s well past the dinner rush, so the more family-oriented patrons have left hours ago.

Simon ducks his head a little further and turns around to hide his grin.

By the time Maia gets back to Taki’s Diner, it’s almost 11 pm and her shift relief is literally following her through the door.

It’s Bat Velasquez, and that boy has got it bad for Maia if anyone ever did. Simon would say he can smell it, but that would be a bold-faced lie. It’s just really obvious in the love-sick way Bat looks at her whenever Maia turns her back.

Simon grins at the pole-axed expression on her face when she catches sight of him and Jace working together behind the bar.

“I didn’t burn it down!” he declares proudly, arms stretched out with a bottle of rum in one hand and a rocks glass in the other.

Jace grabs the bottle from his hand, gets really, really close – right up against his back, actually – and takes the glass, too.

“Yet,” he growls in Simon’s ear before he turns to Maia and raises his voice. “You made it back just in time.”

Simon can hear the cocky grin, and it does what it always does: send shivers down his spine and raise his hackles from his tailbone all the way up to the nape of his neck. He stops breathing to make sure he doesn’t involuntarily let slip any embarrassing noises.

He sidesteps out of Jace’s personal space and hightails it around the counter to put some distance between them.

“How’s your hand?” he asks Maia, looking at the thick white bandage that covers everything from her fingers down to her wrist.

“Four stitches,” Maia says with a smirk. “Woulda been more if they hadn’t made me wait for three hours.” She raises her eyebrows with a pointed look and wags her head back and forth, bouncing her springy curls.

Simon ducks his head. “I’m still glad you went. I bet they gave you a free tetanus shot.”

She relents with a shrug and a grumble. “They did.”

Her gaze crosses over to Jace with a scowl. “You know you’re not getting paid for this, right?”

Jace snorts. “Are you kidding? I could finance the complete Random House Classics collection with the tips I made tonight.”

Maia blinks like he’s flicked the tip of her button nose. “You know how to read?”

Jace huffs. “Hah-hah.”

Maia rolls her eyes and cocks her head to the side. “Get out of here. Both of you.”

Outside, Simon watches Jace put his leather jacket back on and wonders if he should say something or not. He wars with himself for all of five seconds before his better angels win.

“Thank you for tonight,” he blurts. “She didn’t say it, but I know Maia really appreciates what you did, too.”

Jace pauses with his hands in his jacket pockets and his gaze glued to the water beyond the edge of the dock. The waves are a churning black mass, reflecting the bright lights of the industrial and office buildings across the river.

“I didn’t do it for her,” he says.

Then he turns his head and he still. Hasn’t. Quit. _Smoldering_.

Simon freezes, shakes it off with a breathy chuckle. “You gotta stop doing that.”

“What?”

“You know what.”

“Tell me anyway.”

Simon takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders. “You gotta quit playing with me.”

It’s been going on for a few months now. Since they’ve started training together. Jace will stand too close, or make a deliberately ambiguous comment, or casually touch him in a way that maybe isn’t casual at all. It’s not nice, and it can’t be sincere, and it’s driving Simon nuts.

“Who says I’m playing?” Jace challenges him, still with that cocky grin.

Simon laughs sarcastically, shoving his hands into the pockets of his worn-out denim jacket.

“Right, because somewhere between falling in forever-love with Clary and having your heart broken by a bunch of fucking self-righteous angels, you realized you’re helplessly drawn to my nerd-appeal.”

“After.”

Simon does an honest to goodness double take and stares at Jace like he’s just witnessed the big reveal of the final episode of the Star Wars Ennead for the first time. Disbelief and shock.

“What?”

Jace shrugs and twitches his eyebrows like it’s no big deal.

“After I had my heart broken by a bunch of self-righteous fucking angels.”

“Oh.”

The cards are on the table, and Simon’s still not sure if Jace is bluffing. It takes his brain less than five seconds to come up with a really bad idea.

“Prove it.”

He doesn’t expect the immediate reaction.

Jace’s hands grab his cheeks, and Jace’s mouth presses squarely over his, crushing their lips together like he is trying to prove a point.

Which is pretty much exactly what Simon asked him to do, so this one’s probably at least fifty percent on him, but still.

“I thought you’d be a better kisser,” tumbles out when Jace pulls away to catch his breath.

“You’re not exactly giving me much to work with here,” Jace snaps back, nodding pointedly at Simon’s posture.

Simon’s standing stiff as an iron post with his hands still stuffed inside the pockets of his denim jacket.

“Well, I didn’t know you were going to do that!” he says defensively, flapping the open halves of his jacket.

“What did you think I was going to do?” Jace’s brows furrow over an outraged glare.

“I don’t know!”

“By the Angel, you’re the must frustrating person I’ve ever met.” Jace lets go of Simon’s cheeks and throws his hands up.

“Ditto!” Simon yells, flapping his jacket sides for emphasis.

Jace makes an inhuman strangled noise and grabs his face again. This time, he doesn’t just press their mouths together. He swipes his tongue over the seam of Simon’s lips and uses Simon’s startled gasp to slip his way inside like some sort of kissing con-artist.

Simon’s too stunned to say anything, and then it doesn’t matter anyway, because he’s not going to just take this like some sort of chump. He’s going to give as good as he gets and make that cocky bastard weak in the knees.

And, yeah, okay, maybe he’s going a little weak in the knees himself. Who can blame him? There’s almost six feet of smoldering hot guy pressed up against him with one hand firmly on his ass and the other wrapped around the back of his neck. Simon’s own hands are busy grabbing fistfuls of leather jacket to see if they can get even closer.

Jace is still kissing him like he’s trying to prove a point. The difference is, Simon gets the point now. He very much gets it from the shivers running down his spine and the solid ridge of Jace’s hardening dick rubbing against his own.

“Buh—Boathouse. Now.”

That came out somewhat more authoritatively than Simon had planned, stutter notwithstanding.

Jace doesn’t seem to mind.

Great, now Simon just has to figure out how to actually physically move them toward that goal.

They stagger more than walk.

Simon takes one hand off Jace, wraps his fist around the padlock at the sliding door, and tears it off without the slightest bit of remorse for breaking and entering. It’s his old lair, after all.

They don’t make it up into the canoe. They don’t even try, because the nearest support beam is much closer. Simon’s back just naturally collides with it while they’re stumbling around.

Simon’s not quite done kissing when he feels Jace slide away from his mouth and down his front. He’s probably making an idiotic fish face before he realizes what’s happening. He opens his eyes and stares down at something he’s pretty sure isn’t real.

Jace Herondale is on his knees, smiling up at him like he’s hungry and Simon’s a plate full of his favorites from an all-you-can-eat.

“Fuck,” Simon breathes.

He knows where this is going, but he’s also completely convinced it can’t be happening.

“Still want me to prove it?” Jace drawls.

Simon nods once with his mouth pressed in a tight line, because if he tries to make any kind of sound, he will embarrass himself and Jace will laugh his ass off. He claws his fingers into the wooden support beam at his back so they don’t do anything stupid.

The button on his jeans pops easily. The zipper slides down without protest. Simon’s head bangs so hard against the post behind him, he’s sure there’ll be splinters embedded in his skull.

Jace’s hand is inside his boxers, curled around his dick, pulling it out so he can suck Simon off.

Simon rolls his eyes up to the bland corrugated metal ceiling, because if he looks down right now, he’ll come all over himself before Jace ever gets his mouth around…

“Holy shit! Oh, g--. Oh, g-g--”

Simon’s choking on it, and he can’t even care, because he can’t catch a full breath anyway.

Jace’s mouth is hotter than a furnace, tighter than a clenched ass, and he sucks harder than a Dyson, going down on the length of Simon’s dick one torturous inch at a time.

He can’t look. He has to look. He needs to see this to believe it.

Simon takes a deep, shuddering breath and slowly rolls his head down.

Jace’s lips are stretched around the girth of Simon’s dick, about an inch away from taking it all. A few blond strands have fallen across his forehead. His eyes are wide open behind them, sparkling with delight. He’s looking up at Simon with raised brows like he’s still trying to prove a point. And then he swallows.

Simon’s not sure what noise he makes when his cock slides in that last little bit and Jace’s throat squeezes around the tip at the same time that Jace’s lips kiss the base of Simon’s groin.

The next time he’s sure of anything, both his hands are on the back of Jace’s head, fingers tangled in soft blond hair, holding that beautiful face pressed so tightly against him that he can feel the tip of Jace’s nose dig into his skin.

Jace is still looking up at him with a wicked sparkle in his eyes. His fingers are digging into Simon’s thighs. He doesn’t try to pull away. He doesn’t move at all. He’s just waiting.

“You’re unreal.”

This is a fever dream. Sometime after Jace showed up at Taki’s, Simon must have tripped behind the bar and banged his fool head on something and passed out. Now, he’s lying somewhere on a gurney, bleeding from a serious head injury and sporting an inexplicable erection, fantasizing about getting the hottest blowjob of his life from Jace Herondale.

“Can’t be real,” Simon says, shaking his head. “Too good to be real. Just a beautiful dirty dream.”

Jace makes a low whining noise in his throat and swallows around his dick again. His face is turning red. His eyes are wet. When he blinks, a couple of tears spill over the corners and roll down his cheeks. His fingers are clawing at Simon’s thighs so hard he’s going to leave bruises. He still doesn’t make a move to pull back.

Simon never wants to wake up. His fingers twitch in Jace’s hair before he manages to get a grip and pull that perfect mouth off his dick just far enough to slide out of Jace’s throat.

Jace’s sharp breath is loud in the silence and bursts across Simon’s skin in a blast of hot air. Another sharp intake and he goes right back down. Swallows. Waits.

Simon’s mouth drops open and words fall out.

“G-, I still can’t say it. Doesn’t matter. You’re amazing.”

He pulls Jace off again and lets him breathe. Can’t help but wipe his thumbs over those tear tracks. Has to feel the trembling line of that handsome jaw under his fingers. Has to experience the scratch of five-o-clock shadow and trace the curve of those absolutely perfect pink lips stretched around his cock.

“Fucking beautiful. I don’t care if I’m in a coma for the rest of my undead life. This is worth it. You’re perfect. Fuck, don’t let it go to your head.”

Jace sucks him back down and hums around him. Like he’s enjoying a mouthful of his favorite spaghetti, not a dick lodged so far down his throat he can’t breathe. He looks up between wet lashes with an angelic expression of devotion.

Simon laughs, maybe moans, maybe both.

“Fuck it, I don’t care. Let it go to your head. You’re beautiful. Perfect.”

Simon’s fever dreaming. He still can’t believe what’s happening. That any of this could be real. Since it’s clearly not, he probably doesn’t have to hold back.

He pulls Jace off his dick again and grabs two fistfuls of silky blond hair, holding him there.

“I’m going to fuck your face now,” he hears himself say like he’s announcing the next song in a set, “so if you need me to stop or slow down, you’re going to have to give me a sign.”

Jace responds to that with the Lightwood-family eye-roll. It’s almost enough to make Simon believe this is real. That doesn’t change the face that he means it.

“I mean it,” he snaps. “If you need me to slow down, drop one hand; if you need me to stop, take both hands off my thighs. Got it?”

Jace’s fingers clench reflexively. His brows furrow like he forgot he put his hands there. Then he shrugs like it doesn’t matter. He actually tries to swallow Simon’s dick again.

“Seriously?” Simon keeps him from doing just that with a firm pull on his hair. “You’re just gonna let me choke you on my dick until I come or you pass out?”

The noise Jace makes in response is impossible to interpret. The full body shudder doesn’t help to clarify things, but it’s making Simon’s dick twitch inside the soft, wet heat of Jace’s mouth.

“Okay,” Simon gently scratches his head because he doesn’t know what else to do. “We’ll put a pin in that for later. Much later. Do you think you can be a good boy and do what I told you for now?”

The glare he gets in response is positively withering. Simon’s not sure what it means that it still turns him on.

“That’s not supposed to be hot. Do you have to be so fucking hot at all times? Seriously, would it kill you to not be sexy for like five minutes? Just five minutes is all I ask. Promise, I won’t love you any less.”

He snaps his mouth shut probably a second too late on that one. Doesn’t matter. Fever dreams don’t judge.

Jace’s eyes are huge and his tongue undulates around the underside of Simon’s dick like he’s going to say something.

Simon doesn’t give him the chance. He doesn’t want to hear any smug come-backs or witty one-liners right now. He doesn’t want to hear anything except the noises Jace makes when he takes Simon’s dick all the way down his throat and swallows around it.

“So damn perfect,” he says with a wistful sigh. “Gorgeous fucking beautiful man.”

Jace moans and it vibrates up the length of Simon’s dick and straight through him.

Simon’s so far gone for this it’s not even funny and this is not going to take long at all. He still can’t stop talking.

“So damn good at this.”

He swallows a grunt when he pulls Jace’s head back and feels that incredible tongue flutter along the underside of his dick. Then it pushes into that sensitive spot just below the circumcision scar. Simon shoves his way back in before he can feel bad about it.

“So fucking good at everything. It’s not fair.”

He finds a rhythm somewhere in the muddled mess that is his brain high on getting blown by Jace. All the way in, hold it there until Jace swallows, and back out again to the maddening sensation of that amazing tongue fluttering and those lips sucking harder than a damn Dyson.

“So hot. So gorgeous.”

Jace’s eyes flutter shut. “No, don’t. Keep your eyes open. Look at me. I can’t get enough of that. So fucking beautiful when you look at me like that.”

He really fucking is. There’s nothing quite like those clear eyes with their wet golden lashes, looking up at him like Jace is venerating and Simon is the patron saint of blowjobs.

Simon’s mouth is working on autopilot, too far gone to be embarrassed by what’s coming out or how stupid he sounds. Some tiny part of him registers that Jace seems to like what he’s hearing.

“I bet you’re hard. I bet you wanna jerk off right now, take your gorgeous dick out and get yourself off while I fuck your face.”

Jace’s fingers twitch on his thighs like he’s getting ready to do just that.

“Don’t!” Simon warns him and his tone has a hard edge to it. “Don’t move those hands from where they are unless you want me to slow down or stop. Keep them right where they are. Dig in if you have to.”

The fingers dig in hard, and Jace makes a desperate noise and swallows convulsively around Simon’s dick.

“Good boy,” Simon breathes. “So good for me, promise I’ll take care of you. I’ll make you feel so good. Promise.”

Jace actually fucking shakes at that and Simon swears he’s found a way to suck harder and swallow his cock deeper even though that shouldn’t be possible at this point.

It’s got him so close to the edge, Simon can taste it at the back of his teeth. It’s his balls drawing tight, and that tingle in his spine, and he’s almost there, almost.

“I know you wanna come,” he babbles. “That’s okay, baby. I’ll get you there, but you have to get me there first, okay? It’s not going to take much more. You’re doing so good, so fucking good for me.”

Jace stares up at him like a fucking deity and rocks through a full-body shake. His fingers dig into Simon’s thighs so hard he’ll leave fingerprints through the denim.

Simon loses his rhythm and it hits him like a smack upside the head just before it’s too late that he can’t just take fucking liberties with where he comes.

“Fuck,” he bellows, yanking on Jace’s hair to pull him off before that can happen. “I’m gonna--”

Jace swallows him back to the root, and there goes the fair warning.

Simon explodes with a strangled scream, balls deep inside and lost in the relentless squeeze of Jace’s throat until it’s almost too much.

He comes back around and lets gravity do her thing. She’s a harsh mistress, so he lands on his ass in an ungraceful sprawl with his legs around Jace where he’s sitting on his haunches.

“That was…”

Simon doesn’t know what to say because after all the talking he did, words suddenly fail him. His hands are still tangled in Jace’s hair, so he takes the risk and leans in for a kiss.

He’s kinda surprised Jace lets him. The taste isn’t among his favorites, but it’s gone pretty quick between their tongues nudging and coaxing each other. Simon’s even more surprised Jace doesn’t try to take control of the kiss.

“Wow,” tumbles out when he pulls away to catch his breath.

Jace’s lips are swollen and bright pink and glistening.

If just the thought of getting it up again at this very moment wasn’t physically painful, Simon would want to get right back in there. 

“That was amazing,” he finally scrapes together what he was trying to say. “Let me…”

He moves his hand to palm Jace’s cock through his jeans and gets one hell of a surprise when Jace shifts back out of reach.

“You don’t have to.”

Simon’s brows fly up to his hairline. “Have to?” He says, chuckling uncontrollably. “How about want to?”

He can’t wait to get his hand inside those dirty denims and wrap his fingers around Jace’s dick. If it’s anything like the rest of the insufferable blond, it’ll be fucking perfect.

Jace’s brows furrow and he’s avoiding Simon’s gaze.

That doesn’t seem right. Simon’s not sure what the problem is, but he’s not going to ignore it just because it’s trying to pretend it’s not staring him in the face.

“Unless you don’t want me to,” he says slowly. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not— “

Jace makes a strangled laughing noise and shakes his head like Simon’s a complete idiot.

“You don’t have to because I already came, okay?”

“Oh.” Simon’s eyes are probably bugging out of his head right now because that is … “Wow. That’s hot.”

Jace’s stare intensifies, making Simon feel defensive.

“What? I’m not gonna lie. You coming in your pants from sucking me off is fucking hot.”

“For you, maybe. For me it’s just rapidly cooling and sticky.”

Simon snickers. “Yeah, well, that’s what you get for coming before I gave you permission.”

Jace’s expression is priceless. It’s a mixture of fiery-red mortification on his cheeks and a reluctant admission of desire in the way he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip.

“Holy shit,” Simon gasps. “You totally want me to do that.”

“Not if you’re going to be a dick about it,” Jace snarls through his teeth.

“No.” Simon quickly shakes his head. “Nope. Just. Wow. I think I’m going to need you to pinch me.”

Jace’s face screws up in confusion. It’s another one of his expressions that shouldn’t be hot, but, inexplicably, totally is.

Simon sighs. “I just still can’t believe this is real. How do I know I’m not just fever dreaming all this, strapped to a gurney somewhere because I cracked my fool head open trying to play bartender?”

Jace laughs. “So now you want me to prove to you that I’m real, too?” He shakes his head and rolls his eyes so hard they should fall out of his head. “What’s a guy gotta do to get through to you, Simon?”

“I don’t know.” Simon shrugs and shakes his head some more. “Just. Seems too good to be true.” His eyes widen as a terrible thought occurs to him. “This isn’t some sort of sex pollen, aliens made him do it, fuck-or-die— “

“What? Fuck-or… Aliens? How hard did you hit your head on that beam?”

Jace lashes out faster than the human eye can blink and grabs a fistful of Simon’s hair, yanking him forward and down.

“Ouch, ow, gentle! Did no one ever teach you... Ow!”

He swats at Jace, but it’s not like he can really aim or do any damage, stuck in an uncomfortable yoga position with his face in Jace’s lap and his legs still awkwardly bracketing Jace’s hips.

“It’s not even bleeding,” Jace grumbles, releasing Simon’s curls from his death grip. “Wuss.”

“Brute,” Simon grunts, rubbing at his sore scalp. “Now, I know it’s really you.”

“Good. Mission accomplished.” Jace grins his cockiest grin.

It does what it always does. It sends a shiver down his spine and raises Simon’s hackles from his tailbone all the way up to the nape of his neck.

Only now, he can finally actually do something about that. He grabs Jace by his shirt and pulls him in.

“Shut up and come here.”

It’s much easier to deal with that grin when he can wipe it off with a resolute kiss. The kind of kiss that lets Jace know he can only get away with so much sass before Simon puts him over his knee and … Whoa. Where’d that thought come from? It’s a really nice thought, though.

When Simon releases him, Jace’s eyes look a little glazed up close and he’s not grinning so much as gawking a little bit. Dazed from just a kiss.

Simon wants to see what other faces he can get Jace to make once he gets him in a proper bed.

“Real or not,” he says with a grin, “I’m so taking you back to my place.”

Jace manages to pull himself together pretty quick.

“Only if your place has decent water pressure. I need a shower.”

Simon grins. The bed’s not the only place where he can get Jace to make interesting faces.

“How about amazing water pressure and a removable massage shower head?”

Jace tilts his head. “I might have to move in.”

“Only if you’re willing to pay half the rent and take out the trash.”

“Only if you do all the cooking.” 

Things are moving awfully fast. However, Simon is still looking for a new roommate. Between his music and the vampire deputy demon hunter thing, he can never seem to hold on to them for long.

“Deal,” Simon says before he can think twice about it.

“Deal.” Jace grins like he’s won the lottery.

This is either the biggest mistake of Simon’s life or the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

He can’t stop grinning like he’s won the lottery, either.

The End


End file.
